


That Special Something

by fatal_drum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cooking with cum, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Shameless Smut, the aioli is people, the light from shame won't hit me for a million years, very slight D/s vibe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 14:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10439649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatal_drum/pseuds/fatal_drum
Summary: Hannibal requests Will's assistance with a recipe. This isn't what he had in mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Hannibal uses a modified version of this actual recipe, but with no eggs, because he's old-fashioned like that.

****The sharp scent of garlic and saffron filled the air as Will walked into the kitchen with the morning's catch. Steam rose from a pot on the stove, warming the already humid room. He inhaled deeply, leaning against the black granite countertop to watch Hannibal cook.

Hannibal's sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, the crisp white cotton contrasting with his tanned skin. The muscles in his forearms stood out as he minced garlic with expert strokes of his knife. The light dusting of hair on those arms made Will's mouth go dry.

“You're just in time,” Hannibal said without turning around.

“You were expecting me?” Will asked, watching Hannibal's shoulders work as he began crushing the garlic into a paste. When he was satisfied, he set it aside and began juicing a lemon by hand while Will watched, content to let the silence stretch.

Finally he said, “It's almost time for lunch.”

Hannibal turned so his face was in profile, raising a hand absently to his lips. His tongue lapped the juice from his finger, and he closed his eyes to savor the taste.

Will swallowed. “I'll...leave you to it, then.”

“On the contrary, I could use your help.”

Hannibal turned and closed the distance between them in a few long strides, crowding Will against the counter. He set a bowl next to them and looked down at the cooler in Will's hand.

“Did you catch those for me?” he asked. A bead of sweat rolled down his neck, disappearing below his open collar and into the greying thatch of hair.

“Um,” Will said eloquently.

Hannibal plucked the cooler from his unresisting fingers, setting it on the counter.

“Good boy,” he murmured.

There was no condescension in his voice as he raised his hand to Will's face. In spite of himself, Will found the words made his cheeks warm.

“I think you're more than deserving of a reward.”

Hannibal's hand slid to grip Will's hair gently, offering no escape as he leaned in to claim his lips. The kiss was open, wet and hot in a way that made Will shiver.

A strong hand slid down Will's body, stroking down his chest and belly to rest against the crotch of his pants. His fingers circled lightly, teasingly, and Will groaned.

“You never do this while you're cooking,” Will said, then cursed himself.

Hannibal's eyes were amused. “Would you like me to stop?”

Will pulled him in for another kiss, grinding their hips together. He could hear something bubbling on the stove, but that was the least of his concerns as Hannibal's mouth worked down his jaw and his teeth grazed the side of his neck, just over his jugular. His cock twitched as Hannibal kneaded the front of his trousers with a firm, confident touch.

“Definitely not.” Will sighed, tilting his head back as he leaned against the counter. “Never stop.”

Hannibal slid to his knees with surprising grace, unbuckling Will's belt and sliding his pants and underwear down to expose his half-hard cock. He nuzzled the side of it affectionately, making Will bite his lip and clutch the counter.

He nearly lost his grip as Hannibal's lips slid over the crown, sucking gently. His tongue grazed against the underside, barely brushing his skin. Will felt himself hardening under the teasing touch.

Hannibal's mouth slid slowly over him, smooth wet movements that had him struggling not to surge forward and force himself inside. Hannibal's hands stroked his hips and thighs.

“God,” Will panted. “Your mouth—”

Hannibal's eyes crinkled at the corners as he slowly leaned forward slowly to take every inch of Will's cock into his mouth, not stopping until his lips grazed Will's body. His throat fluttered as he swallowed around the head.

Will groaned and let go of the counter, hands reaching up to cover his face. Hannibal's movements lost their gentleness; he pulled back to suck so hard Will saw stars. The slight scrape of teeth made Will sob, so aroused it _hurt_.

When Will looked down through his fingers, Hannibal's eyes were fixed on his face, and he had to close his eyes against the heat in his expression.

Will lost track of what was happening after that, drowning in the impossibly warm, devastatingly tight wetness. Hannibal's hands cupped his ass firmly, fingers digging into the skin as if he couldn't get enough, as if Will's cock wasn't buried all the way down his throat, as if he could get deeper if he tried hard enough.

Hannibal pulled off of him with a wet pop, rising to press his mouth against Will's, licking into him with the salty taste on his tongue. His hand gripped Will's cock, which was slick with spit as he worked him with expert flicks of his wrists.

Will bit down hard on Hannibal's lip when he came, tasting coppery blood. He sighed and slid to the floor, panting, not caring that his pants were gaping open or that his bare ass was on the tile.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, crossing the room with the bowl in his hands. Will stared at him in stunned silence as he began whisking ingredients.

“What,” Will began, swallowing. With a great deal of effort, he pushed himself up off the floor, tucking himself back into his pants. He crossed the kitchen to look over Hannibal's shoulder.

To his shock, the fluid he was whisking with garlic, olive oil, and lemon juice was... incredibly familiar.

“Hannibal,” Will asked, “did you just blow me so you could make...mayonnaise?”

“This is aioli, not mayonnaise.” Hannibal corrected. “The difference lies in the absence of egg whites.”

“Thanks for the cooking lesson.” Will rolled his eyes.

“A true chef uses the best ingredients available to him, creating a subtle yet unforgettable flavor profile.”

“With cum.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow. “It's hardly the most exotic culinary choice you've witnessed.” Facing Will's stunned silence, he added, “You've hardly shied from ingesting mine.”

Will frowned. “Have you been feeding me—”

“No,” Hannibal said regretfully. “I'm afraid this is my first foray into this area.”

Hannibal finally dipped a finger into the creamy sauce, lapping up a dollop with his tongue. He sighed and licked his lips, then scooped up another drop to hold to Will's lips.

Will found himself opening his mouth despite his better judgment. The aioli was creamy, pungent with garlic and a subtle musk.

“That's...surprisingly good.”

Hannibal beamed, leaning over to reward him with a light kiss.

“I'm glad you think so. Now go wash up.” He patted Will's ass with a proprietary hand. “The rest of our meal is nearly ready.”

Will headed to the bathroom, shaking his head.

It seemed Hannibal would never stop finding new ways to devour him. 


End file.
